


Get Lucky

by Kerkerian



Category: Riptide (TV)
Genre: Accidents, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Related, Eventual Romance, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, Jealousy, M/M, Revelations, S03e13 The Frankie Kahana Show, injuries, lots of tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-19 09:06:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18133739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kerkerian/pseuds/Kerkerian
Summary: Sometimes it takes a catalyst or two to trigger something which is long overdue.





	Get Lucky

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own "Riptide".
> 
> I was surprised and very happy about the warm welcome into this amazing little fandom. Thank you, 4badmice, tinx_r and Queenafoster for your kind words, and to those who gave kudos for my first Riptide story!

 

It was past midnight when Murray, Nick and Cody finally made it home. All three of them were exhausted, and from the lines on Cody's face and the way he set his jaw, Nick knew that his partner was in pain despite his reassurances that he was all right.

After they had said goodnight, Murray disappeared in his room and Cody slowly made his way down to the stateroom while Nick went to get some painkillers and a large glass of water for him.

When he entered their room, Cody was sitting on his bunk and looking mutinous.

“What's wrong?” Nick asked, putting the glass and the pills on the nightstand.

“My shirt is wrong,” Cody muttered. “Can't get out of the damn thing.”

Unable to subdue a smile because his partner was so terribly adorable right then, Nick shook his head: “Want me to cut it off of you?”

Cody glared at him: “Just give me a hand, alright?”

“Huh. I thought you're fine.”

“You're enjoying this, are you?”

Nick regarded him, and his face was serious all of sudden. “As a matter of fact, I'm not,” he said softly. Cody looked confused at that, and Nick could have kicked himself; he shouldn't have said anything. But it had been nagging at him all day; he was wildly relieved that his partner hadn't been injured more grievously, and it bugged him that Cody put on a show for Lieutenant Parisi like that after brushing off his friends. So what if he was jealous? It wasn't going to change anything anyway. And yet. He felt that he (and by extension Murray, maybe) alone had the right to look after Cody, and yes, in his book that damn well included the prerogative to worry about the guy. Or put him on a pedestal.

“Come on,” he said to forestall the inevitable next question, reaching for the hem of Cody's shirt. “Let's get you out of this, then.”

Cody however stopped him with a hand on his arm: “Nick.”

Only Cody managed to put so much into one word. One _sound_. Nick could hear his own blood rushing in his ears, because the other's expression was concerned now, and it mirrored everything Cody hadn't said out loud: _Something is bothering you and I don't understand what it is. But for a second there I saw that you're hurt, even if you're trying to hide it._

Nick breathed in and out through his nose a few times before he thought he had his voice under control: “I couldn't even think straight, you know?” he said in a rush. “We saw them loading you into that car, and we followed them but we couldn't stop them... if we had lost them, if you hadn't jumped out...”

He could still feel the terror of seeing Cody lying there, for a moment entirely motionless. Once it had been clear that they had been lucky, incredibly so, he couldn't stop shaking, and he kept his hands on his partner until the ambulance arrived.

Cody's gaze roamed over his face: “But I did get out,” he said, sounding tentative.

Nick nodded, looking down: “I know.” Nevertheless, he felt his eyes getting moist. He could have lost Cody today and it seemed that he wasn't even allowed to acknowledge what that was doing to him.

Quickly, he blinked a few times: “Sorry.” He hoped that Cody would let it go for now, but apparently, there was no such luck. Instead, he felt Cody's hand around his, then his partner pulled him down onto the mattress next to him.

Nick wiped his eyes: “I'm okay,” he muttered.

Cody gently bumped his shoulder with his own: “No, you're not,” he replied matter-of-factly. “Wanna talk about it?”

Nick didn't. He usually had himself much more under control, but his nerves were lying blank, meaning he was probably only going to make it worse. The last thing he wanted was to risk their friendship, however; Cody mustn't ever know how he truly felt. So he had to play it cool, just as he had had to pretend he was merely bugged by Cody's reaction when Joanna turned up when he had actually been close to screaming on the inside.

“I'm just tired,” he said evasively, and it took all he had to remain calm. “Now do you need help with the shirt or not?”

Realizing that he wasn't going to get any further right now, Cody nodded: “Yeah.”

 

They didn't talk much after that; Nick helped Cody with his clothes, made him take the painkillers and even tucked him in, something which normally would have elicited a string of indignant protest at the very least, but Cody had a feeling that Nick wouldn't take it lightly this time, so he refrained from saying anything. Apart from that, he could feel all the little aches in his body now despite the painkillers taking the edge off; it had been a long, eventful day, after all, and he was almost ridiculously relieved to be lying down.

Once his partner was taken care of, Nick quickly changed into a t-shirt and sweats and crawled into his own bed, immediately turning off the light and hoping that Cody hadn't noticed the tremor in his hands.

 

Cody lay straining his ears, feeling wide awake again; he couldn't bear it if Nick was hurting, and for some reason, it seemed that he was. Cody was certain that there was more to it than himself almost getting killed, but Nick seemed determined to keep the reason to himself. It made him vulnerable when he did that, and Cody hated the notion. He needed Nick to be strong, to be alright. They had always had each other's backs, starting in Vietnam when they had been little more than kids and had yet to learn about true hardship. Well, Cody had to admit that Nick had had his fair share of that during his childhood, but war was something else entirely.

One couldn't unsee the things one had seen, undo what one had had to do. It was one reason why he didn't think he'd ever be able to live anywhere else than in a warm climate: he needed the sun to burn away the darkness he couldn't shake off. There was always going to be that certain part of his soul that was blackened by all the battles, the bloodshed. He had learned to live with it, but it was easier when the days were bright and breezy. Which incidentally was one of the reasons why he never visited his mom back east during the winter.

And of course, there was Nick. They had grown up together, back there at the front, had quickly found out that they could rely on one another no matter what. Their mutual experience was part of the glue that held their friendship together; there was no need to pretend when things weren't so great, no need to explain because they both knew.

Nick shutting Cody out like this was unusual and worrisome and hurtful all at once.

“Nick?” Cody asked after a while; he was almost certain that his partner was still awake as well.

There was no answer right away, then Nick cleared his throat: “You okay?”

The bastard always managed to break Cody's heart just a little more. “Yeah,” he said, softly, then hesitated for a moment: “Did I do something wrong?”

Nick remained silent for a moment: “No,” he then said, sounding choked. “No, Cody, no, you didn't. I'm sorry if I made you think...” He broke off.

Slowly, Cody sat up, wincing because his back was stiffening up, and got to his feet with measured movements. He was never more grateful for the Riptide being relatively small, since it was only two steps- well, three with the way he was tottering about right now, over to Nick's bed. As slowly as he had gotten up, he sat down on the edge of the mattress, and reached for Nick in the darkness. Nick flinched ever so minutely when Cody's fingers found his face, the wetness on his cheeks.

Dismayed and worried, Cody let his hand wander, pushed his fingers into Nick's hair, stroked the soft skin around the eyes with his thumb.

“Tell me what's wrong, Nicky,” he said gently.

Nick didn't reply, just turned his face into Cody's hand a little more.

Cody waited for a while, never ceasing the gentle caress, until he realized that he still wasn't going to get an answer.

“Well,” he said, trying to sound calm. “I'm here if you want to talk.”

Long after Cody had returned to his own bunk and had finally succumbed to his exhaustion, Nick was still lying awake, curled up tightly; he could still feel Cody's hand on his skin. For years, he had been able to subdue his feelings for the guy, and they had a good thing going; now it seemed that he was close to giving himself away, which simply couldn't happen. He had to get a grip on himself, couldn't let it get to him if Cody didn't really need him anymore.

 

On the following morning, Cody woke slowly, feeling woozy from the painkillers. He squinted; his body felt as though he had fought a bulldozer. Slowly, he sat up and discovered that Nick's bunk was empty, the bed made.

Frowning, he got up and, after a quick detour to the head, went up into the salon. Murray was sitting on the bench with some coffee, a bowl of cereal and the newspaper, looking tired. His face lit up when Cody came in: “Hey, Cody. Did you sleep okay?”

Cody went straight to the coffee maker and poured himself a mug: “Not really. I'm one giant bruise.”

Murray giggled at that.

“Where's Nick?” Cody then asked.

Murray sobered up: “I haven't seen him today. I thought he was still asleep.”

“No, he's gone...” Cody's stomach fluttered nervously for some reason.

“Gone where?” Murray asked.

Cody shook his head, then winced: “I dunno,” he muttered.

Twenty minutes later however, Nick appeared. He looked drawn, but he smiled, holding up a paper bag: “Morning,” he said, and only someone who knew him well would notice that his smile didn't quite reach his eyes and that his voice was a little quieter than usual. “I brought some bearclaws.”

Cody regarded him: “Thank you,” he murmured.

Nick looked everywhere but directly at Cody: “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just... battered.”

“'kay. Better take it slow today, then.” He put the bag on the table: “Listen, I've got some work to do on the Mimi, so I'll be over at the helipad.” He turned towards the stairs, but Cody stopped him: “Wait. Aren't you going to have breakfast with us?”

“Naw. I had a bearclaw on the way. See you later.” With that, he disappeared.

Murray looked at Cody inquiringly: “Is he okay?”

Cody pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers: “He really wants us to think he is,” he muttered, wearily closing his eyes.

Murray, sensing that this was something between the two of them, didn't ask any further questions, for which Cody was grateful.

Despite his aching body, he went over to the helipad later, but Mimi wasn't there. Nick returned late that night; Cody had been waiting up for him but had gone to bed at one point because his injuries made the bench sofa in the salon rather uncomfortable.

When he woke up on the following day, Nick was gone again, having left a note that he had accepted a cargo job with the Mimi and was going to be back on the next day.

This went on for a while, they barely saw Nick during the following week. Since Cody was still healing, Murray used the time to update their books and do their taxes, something he reveled in. He asked Cody about Nick a few times, but Cody, not wanting to make him uneasy, answered evasively every time, claiming that Nick had just been very shaken by what had happened. Which wasn't even a lie, after all, even if Cody still didn't understand what else the situation had triggered. He tried talking to Nick one night, but Nick said he was too tired and wasn't up to it.

 

One evening, Cody therefore set his alarm for the following morning. He was a bit confused at first when it went off at five a.m., but then he remembered what he wanted to do. With his good arm, he turned on the light.

Nick groaned: “What are you doing?” he muttered, rubbing his eyes.

Cody got up and went over to his partner's bunk: “I figured that this is the only way I'd get a chance to talk to you.”

Nick stared at him: “In the middle of the night? Are you crazy?”

“You leave early every day and come back late,” Cody countered. “And if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're avoiding me. So yes, maybe I'm crazy, but I can't do this any longer. I want to know what's going on.”

Nick sat up with an air of defeat. He was looking worn, Cody thought, with bruise-like shadows underneath his eyes.

“Tell me what this is about, Nick,” he said gently. “Please.”

Nick briefly closed his eyes, then he took a deep breath: “I'm sorry,” he said so softly that it was barely audible. “You're right, I was avoiding you.”

“Why?”

Nick fiddled with the hem of his blanket, looking around the room as if to gather courage before he looked back at Cody: “I was being... inappropriate. And I couldn't stop it.”

Confused, Cody shook his head: “I don't understand.”

Nick's expression was desperate: “I was jealous when Lieutenant Parisi showed up and you suddenly acted as though everything was peachy.”

“Yeah, so?”

Nick swallowed: “I couldn't handle it, because... you're...” His eyes were swimming, and he broke off. Tentatively, Cody took Nick's hand and squeezed it: “I'm what?”

Nick still avoided his gaze: “You're the most important person in my life,” he said, choked.

Cody smiled: “And you're the one in mine,” he replied softly. “I still don't see why this is a problem.”

At that, Nick's face contorted. He pulled his hand from Cody's grip and hid his face behind both of his. He barely made a sound, but his shoulders were shaking.

Cody's stomach dropped unpleasantly: “Hey,” he said, putting his good hand on Nick's shoulder but feeling helpless, “hey...”

It took a while for Nick to calm down. Cody had seen Nick in all kinds of situations, and for him to come apart like this meant that it was bad. Really bad. Of the two of them, he usually had a more level head than Cody when it came to personal matters. But now he seemed so shaken that it was breaking Cody's heart.

He squeezed Nick's shoulder: “Deep breaths,” he said.

Nick wiped his hand over his eyes: “Sorry...”

“Nothing to be sorry for.” Cody regarded him: “Can I get you anything? Some water?”

Nick shook his head, finally looking at him: “The problem,” he said hoarsely, softly, “is that I'm in love with you, Cody.” He took another deep if shuddering breath. “I love you, always have. And I know that it's wrong and it will ruin our friendship.” He closed his eyes once more: “I'm so sorry,” he whispered.

 

Cody never let go of Nick's shoulder. He just sat there silently for a few minutes, motionless, feeling... confused, a bit. But not unpleasantly so. And altogether much less taken aback than he probably should be. If anything, he felt like he had gotten a compliment, and something in him stirred. He had had crushes on guys when he was younger, but he had never given it much thought, it were the sixties, after all. He was a bit surprised that Nick apparently swung that way, or maybe both ways, but did it matter? He didn't think so. If the war had taught him one important lesson, it was to be grateful to be alive and take things as they came. 

As gently as he could, he squeezed Nick's shoulder once more, then he raised his hand to Nick's face, stroked his cheek with the back of his fingers: “Why are you apologizing for it?” he said tenderly.

Nick's eyes welled up again: “Don't you get it, man? I was deceiving you, all this time. I even tried to go out with Lisa so that you wouldn't go on that date with her...” He wiped his eyes again. “This is ruining everything...”

Cody however smiled at him. Of all the reactions Nick had anticipated, _dreaded_ , this hadn't been among them.

“This isn't ruining anything,” Cody said calmly. “You're a good guy, Nick Ryder, I've figured that out about five seconds after we met. And if you tell me that you're in love with me, it's an honour.”

“But...”

“Shut up, will you? I'm not finished yet.”

Nick closed his mouth.

Cody regarded him: “Can we take into account that maybe I'm also a little to blame for this?”

Now Nick looked confused: “Why?”

Cody shrugged: “I've felt drawn to you from the first time I saw you. I don't think I would've made it through war and all that came afterwards if it hadn't been for you. I wouldn't have my boat, I wouldn't have this crazy, wonderful job... this life. And I never once stopped to consider if maybe there was more to it than just friendship.” He shook his head: “I know what Pitbull always said- fighting together, _surviving_ together forges a bond stronger than anything else. And I believe he's right. But with us... you and me, Nicky. All these girls who never stuck around for some reason.”

Nick's eyes were huge in his pale face as he beheld Cody now: “What are you saying?” he murmured.

Smiling, Cody shrugged once more: “I'm saying that I've got a lot to think about. And that you didn't ruin anything. Or that you ever were inappropriate. Come here.”

He leaned forward and pulled Nick into his arms; he could feel that his partner was trembling, but Nick returned the embrace. They stayed like that for a long while.

“I'll need some time,” Cody said when they eventually let go. “Promise me one thing, please- no more hiding from me, okay?”

Obviously ashamed, Nick nodded. “But I do have a few more cargo flights today and tomorrow,” he then said. “Figured we could use the money.”

Cody sighed: “Good thinking. Need any help?”

Nick shook his head: “Thanks.”

Cody made to get up, but then he hesitated: “You know I love you too, right? No matter what.”

Averting his gaze once more, Nick nodded again: “Yes,” he said softly. “I know.”

 

They didn't go back to sleep since it was getting light out and Nick had to be at Point Mugu at eight. So they made some coffee and had an early breakfast.

They didn't talk much, but to Nick, it felt as if they had weathered a storm, even though it seemed a bit unreal that he had poured his heart out like that and was still here on the Riptide. He felt a bit ashamed for not giving Cody more credit though. And even if for him, things were going to be different from now on, he couldn't imagine not having Cody and even Murray in his life. If that made him a selfish bastard, he didn't know what to do about it.

 

Cody watched Nick as he left for the helipad, kept his eyes on him until he was out of sight. He felt exhilarated and perplexed at the same time. He hadn't seriously fancied men before, and he didn't know if he fancied Nick. Or maybe 'fancied' was the wrong word, because it didn't seem sufficient to cover the wealth of emotions that came to mind when he thought of the guy. Cody knew that he couldn't imagine living without Nick. He sometimes lay awake wondering what they were going to do if one day, they'd decide not to continue with the agency. If they'd still live on the Riptide. And was that in itself not a clue? He kept telling people that he wanted a wife and kids, but did he really? Then why did his most important, recurring worries about the future always entail the agency, Nick and his boat? And maybe Murray, if he wasn't going to get married at one point?

Huh. Cody leaned back and folded his arms, which luckily didn't hurt anymore. Nick had seemed so desperate, so shocked by his own revelations; Cody felt warmth spreading through his chest at the thought. Poor, sweet Nick. What a weight he had been carrying around with him, what a burden he had been hiding for Cody's sake. It did explain why he appeared insensitive at times, Cody thought; there probably were some mechanisms of self-preservation at work. Understandably so.

“You're something else, Nick Ryder,” Cody murmured fondly.

 

That night, the three of them watched an old movie together and had some pizza, and there was a general air of relief palpable because things seemed back to normal. Nick was still a little wary, having had a lot of time to think during the day, and thinking inevitably lead to worrying. Yet Cody seemed his usual, relaxed self, and Nick managed to concentrate on the film and get out of his head for a while.

 

On the following day, he had one more cargo load, but it wasn't too bad: “I'll be back some time in the afternoon,” he said before he left.

After breakfast, Cody and Murray tidied up and cleaned the boat, which was long overdue; with Nick gone most of the time, Murray busy with accountancy and Cody largely incapacitated for the past week, there was a lot to do.

For lunch, they ate some leftover pizza, then Murray went below deck to work on his latest program while Cody stretched out on one of the deck-chairs for a nap.

He awoke some indeterminate time later because Murray was shaking his shoulder: “Cody!”

“Murray- what-”

“There was a radio call just now. I only heard the rest of it and it was rather garbled, but it sounded like Nick.”

“What time is it?”

“Half past two.”

Cody felt his stomach drop unpleasantly. He quickly got up and went into the wheelhouse, picking up the radio: “Riptide calling N698. Nick, do you read me?”

All he got was static. He tried a few more times, to no avail.

“Something's wrong,” he said nervously. “Murray, any chance of locating the Mimi?”

Murray shook his head: “I'm sorry, I don't think it's possible if we can't reach her.”

Cody took a deep breath: “Okay. I'll call Carl over at Point Mugu, he might know where Nick was headed. And maybe he's heard from him.”

Carl however had only seen Nick that morning. “He was headed towards Indian Springs.”

“Do you know where he dropped the cargo off?”

“Think it's a ranch. Let me check... yeah, here it is. Owner is Walter Jennings.”

“Do you have his number?”

Carl hesitated, but in the end gave Cody the number.

It took a while until someone answered, and from the sounds of it, the person was ancient and apparently also quite deaf. Cody was ready to hang up when he heard a younger, exasperated voice in the background: “Mom, you're not supposed to answer the phone!”; it was Mrs Jennings. Cody could have wept. Mrs Jennings confirmed that the pilot had radioed in his arrival around noon and had left again roughly an hour later.

Cody's mind was racing as he put down the receiver and told Murray what he'd just heard. “Something's happened,” he said. “That damn old piece of junk he's flying-”

“We don't know that,” Murray interrupted him. “Maybe there's another reason...”

“There's an air force base nearby,” Cody said, picking up the receiver again. “I'll give them a call.”

It took several minutes until he was put through to someone who could provide him with the information that they hadn't received any distress calls that day.

With a shaking hand, Cody hung up: “What now?” he asked hoarsely.

“Call Joanna,” Murray suggested. “She'll know what to do.”

Cody nodded; he was grateful not to be alone with this, because he sure as hell was too agitated to think straight.

 

A few hours later, Cody and Murray sat in a search and rescue helicopter that was cruising low over the Mojave desert, illuminating the ground with a large headlight, since it had long since gotten dark. They hadn't been able to contact the Mimi all afternoon, and now they were retracing the course Nick probably would have taken, using data Murray had computed. They had already reached the Jennings ranch and turned back once. Cody didn't really hear Murray's instructions to the pilots how to alter the route now; his stomach was in knots, and he had to concentrate on breathing and simply looking at the circle of light below, otherwise his mind kept conjuring up vivid images of the Mimi exploding or similarly horrible scenarios. So far, they hadn't seen anything that resembled the large bulk of Nick's beloved Sikorsky, only rocks and shrubs.

With a bitter smile that more resembled a grimace, Cody thought of Vietnam, how it was Nick who usually calmed him down whenever he was on edge during a mission, just by being calm himself. He never needed words because he just seemed so damn sure at what he was doing up there that Cody always felt reassured by it, able to keep a level head even under attack. It seemed like flying was like second nature to Nick, therefore it seemed impossible that he could have perished in a helicopter. Cody winced at the thought; Nick wasn't dead, he told himself, he couldn't be. Not yet, not like this, not for a long time, and not alone. He blinked the moisture in his eyes away, once more concentrating on the searchlight.

“There!” he said even before he knew what he was seeing. But this was definitely no rock, it was metallic... and pink.

The chopper landed close by; the Mimi was listing heavily to the right side, but otherwise she seemed intact. Cody was out of the aircraft and running as soon as it had touched the ground: “Nick! Nick, where are you!”

The right wheel of Mimi's landing gear was broken, which was why she was listing, probably helped along by the rather uneven terrain. Nick was sitting on the ground, leaning against her, his right arm lying awkwardly on his lap. For an endless moment, Cody thought he was too late, but then Nick moved his head minutely and blinked.There was blood on the side of his face from what seemed like a wound near his hairline, and he looked exhausted, but to Cody, it was the most beautiful sight he could imagine.

“Nick,” he all but sobbed and fell to his knees beside him. “Are you hurt?”

Nick blinked again, apparently bemused; his eyes weren't quite focusing. “Cody? You really here?” he slurred. His voice was hoarse, and he was trembling.

Cody wanted to touch him, to reassure himself that he was breathing, that he was more or less in one piece, but he checked himself, merely put one hand on Nick's cheek: “I'm really here,” he breathed. “And Murray too. We're taking you home, Baby.”

“Mimi...”

“Don't worry about her. We'll figure it out.”

“Something broke... couldn't bring her down properly.”

The pilots from the search and rescue chopper had meanwhile knelt down next to Cody: “I'm Marty, and this is Hank,” one of them said to Nick. “We're gonna take a look at you, okay?”

Cody moved to give them some space, but he didn't want to leave Nick's side, and besides, his legs felt like jelly now that he'd found him, his blood rushing in his ears. He felt strangely detached as he watched how Nick was being examined, and it didn't even register with him what they said. At one point, he felt Murray's steadying hand on his shoulder and leaned against him a little, grateful for the support. Later, he barely remembered how they got Nick on the stretcher or how he himself ended up back in the chopper; all he knew was that Hank, after a murmured conversation with Murray, sat him down in one of the crew seats so that he was close to Nick, and then they were on their way back.

Cody couldn't take his gaze off Nick, whose eyes were closed now; he was covered with a blanket and receiving fluids through an IV. Hank was taking notes. Cody would have liked to touch Nick, make sure he knew that Cody was there, but he didn't think he could move on his own.

 

Once they had reached the hospital, walking was easier than he'd have thought, but then, fresh adrenaline was pumping through him as he and Murray followed the the stretcher that was bearing their best friend.

In the waiting room, Murray brought him some sweet tea and a donut; Cody didn't want anything, but admittedly, the food did the trick. He felt a little more together afterwards. Murray sat down next to him: “He's going to be okay,” he said softly.

Cody rubbed a hand over his face: “Sorry, Boz... I sorta tuned out there...”

Murray regarded him with a sympathetic expression: “I understand,” he replied. “You've been through a very intense emotional ordeal, Cody.”

Cody laughed humourlessly: “So have you.”

Murray inclined his head: “Yeah... but you've known Nick much longer. You've been through some pretty serious stuff together, after all.” He frowned: “Now, I don't mean to say that I don't care for him as much as you do-”

“I know,” Cody interrupted him, patting Murray's knee. “Thank you for defending me against myself. You're a good friend.”

Blushing a little, Murray fell silent.

 

The wait was endless. If Cody had felt up to it, he'd have paced up and down the room, but he was too exhausted, mentally and physically. At one point, Joanna arrived: “Any news?”

Cody shook his head: “Not yet. It's been two hours...”

Joanna regarded him with obvious concern:“Can I get you anything?” she asked, looking from him to Murray; when both shook their heads, she sat down on Cody's other side.

Another twenty minutes later, a doctor came in: “Nicholas Ryder?”

All three of them got to their feet, which elicited a minuscule smile.

“I'm Doctor Carmichael.”

Cody shook his hand: “I'm Cody Allen, his next of kin. How is he?”

The doctor nodded: “He's resting comfortably now. He has sustained a severe concussion, a broken collarbone and a fractured rib. Apart from that, there are numerous cuts and scrapes, and he was slightly dehydrated when he first arrived.”

Unthinkingly, Cody grabbed Murray's shoulder for support: “But he must have been strapped in. He always is. How did he break a bone?”

“The details aren't clear as of yet,” the doctor replied kindly. “Captain Ryder was a bit confused due to the concussion and the shock, but he said something about falling out. One cut on his head looks to be consistent with the manner of touchdown as the paramedics described the scene: when the aircraft's landing gear broke, he was probably flung forward with great force and hit his head hard. It's possible that he opened the harness to get out and wasn't fully aware of his surroundings at the time, due to the head injury.”

Well, Cody conceded inwardly. With the way the Mimi had been listing, it was possible.

“He will have to stay here for a minimum of six days,” the doctor then said. “He needs physical and cognitive rest, and we'll have to monitor him closely for some time because there's always the risk of intracranial hemorrhage.” He looked at the three of them sympathetically: “As I said, he's resting comfortably now that we are managing the pain, and he's in good hands here.”

It all sounded horrible to Cody nevertheless. “Can I see him?” he asked.

The doctor inclined his head: “Only for a few minutes, I'm afraid. And please try not to rouse him.”

Shakily, Cody nodded, then turned to Murray: “Boz-”

“It's okay,” Murray said, giving his friend a tight smile. “Go.”

 

Nick appeared to be sleeping when Cody entered his room. Unaware that he was holding his breath, he stepped closer until he stood right next to the bed, daunted by the sight in front of him: the monitors, the IV and other lines, but most of all, the motionless figure that was his partner. Nick was pale, the wound on his temple hidden by a piece of gauze; his face looked drawn, even with the medication. His right arm was immobilized, and Cody knew how that felt.

Almost timidly, since he didn't want to stir him from his sleep, he reached over the bed railing and gently laid his hand on Nick's, needing to feel that he was really there. Nick didn't react, was probably knocked out by the medication, but it was alright; his skin was reassuringly warm, and Cody was going to stay in the hospital anyway, just in case, so he'd be close by. He felt like an idiot, too; if anything, this day had shown him how much he really cared for Nick, how a world without him simply wasn't feasible. How blind he had been all this time, that he had taken Nick for granted instead of being grateful for him every single day.

 

Murray and Joanna were on their feet as soon as he came back out.

“He's asleep,” Cody said, still feeling unhinged but also tentatively relieved now that he'd seen Nick. “He'll hate this.”

“At least he's going to be okay,” Murray said, at which Joanna nodded: “Would you like me to take you home?”

Cody shook his head: “You two go on, I'll stay.”

“Cody, are you sure-” Joanna started, but Cody didn't budge: “Thank you for all your help. It's just... I need to be here,” he said simply.

“Okay,” Murray said. “I'll come back in the morning and bring you some breakfast.”

Tiredly, Cody smiled: “Thanks, Boz. Don't get up early on my account though.” It was nearing three, after all.

Once they had left, Cody wandered around the waiting room a bit longer, then he sat down on one of the couches, and despite the fact that his mind was still reeling, he quickly fell asleep.

 

Nick felt as though his eyes were glued shut. Awareness came in bits and pieces: he wasn't at home, though he couldn't remember what had happened. He didn't seem able to move, and there were sounds all around him. His head didn't feel too good, but there was warmth, most prominently on his left hand.

When he finally managed to pry his eyes open, blinking, the light was uncomfortable. He was distracted when a figure moved into his line of vision, slightly blurred, but he would have recognized it anywhere. The accompanying voice was soothing: “Take it easy, Nick... you're in the hospital.”

Hospital. He recalled someone named Mark... or Martin... and there were rocks... it didn't make any sense.

He frowned, trying to jog his memory, but his face hurt, and he winced.

“Easy,” Cody repeated in a low voice, and then his hand was there, gently caressing the other side of Nick's head, which was immensely reassuring; Nick's eyes closed again. He was ever so tired.

 

Nick mainly slept on the first day, and Cody stayed with him for most of the time. Late in the morning, Murray arrived with sandwiches, bearclaws and coffee; he also brought some fresh clothes for Cody.

“I called Bax, he sends his regards,” Murray said while they were eating. “He always said not to hesitate to ask if I needed something, and I figured that he could help us with the Mimi.”

Cody shook his head: “Set fire to her, maybe.”

Murray looked from him to Nick, but their friend was still fast asleep. “No, they're going to retrieve her for us.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Cody muttered. Still, he didn't want Nick to fly in that pink monstrosity ever again.

“Statistically, car accidents are much-” Murray began.

“I don't care, Murray,” Cody interrupted him. “All I know is that Nick wouldn't be lying here if it weren't for the Mimi. I always said she wasn't safe, and now she nearly killed him.”

Murray opened his mouth and closed it again, apparently unsure how to reply to that.

Cody rubbed his eyes: “Sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you.”

“It's okay,” Murray said, glancing at Nick again: “But maybe you should keep your opinion about the Mimi to yourself for the time being. You know, for Nick's sake. Cognitive rest and all.”

Cody sighed: “I'll try.”

 

 

On the following day, Nick was looking a little better, and he was entirely lucid after waking up, therefore he was taken off the monitors. Once the nurse was done with his morning care, Cody slipped back into his room, taking up his by now familiar position right next to the bed: “Hey, big guy,” he said gently, reaching for Nick's hand again and squeezing.

Nick still seemed weary, but he squeezed back as he looked Cody over: “Hey,” he replied, his voice a bit hoarse. “You look rumpled. Tell me you didn't sleep here.”

Cody smiled, once more feeling overwhelmingly relieved that Nick was still with him: “Course I did,” he said. “And once you're out of here, I'll have to find a good chiropractor.”

Nick's gaze was fond: “Idiot. But thanks for being here.”

Cody just looked at him for a moment: “How're you feeling?”

“Had better days.”

“How's the pain?”

“Not too bad, 's long as I don't move.”

“Sorry...”

“The Mimi?”

Cody sighed; he should have known. “Murray's called Baxter. He's going to take care of her.”

Nick looked so relieved that Cody would have laughed if weren't actually so angry about that damn piece of junk.

“Accidents happen,” Nick said softly, having read Cody's mind easily.

Cody forced himself to remain calm, mindful of the promise he gave to Murray: “I never want to go through something like this again,” he only said. “I thought we had lost you. That _I_ had lost you.”

Nick squeezed his hand once more: “But you didn't lose me.”

They fell silent, both of them reminiscent of the night after Cody had jumped out of a speeding car, seemingly ages ago, when the situation had been similar, if reversed.

Cody now took a deep breath: “Remember how I told you I needed some time?”

“Yeah,” Nick murmured, his eyes wandering over Cody's face. Cody smiled a tiny smile and inclined his head: “I was being stupid,” he said softly. “I did a lot of thinking over the past week, and I think I'd have gotten there eventually, but the day before yesterday- I'm not ready for a life without you, and I think I never will be.” With his free hand, he gently stroked Nick's cheek: “Somehow, you stole my heart, Nick Ryder. And it took me all this to realize it.”

Nick's tired, battered face lit up, which was an enticing sight to behold: "Are you sure about this?" he asked, and his eyes were actually a bit moist.

Cody's heart clenched at the sight. “Stop me if this hurts,” he said, his heart beating wildly, as he leaned over the railing instead of a verbal answer and kissed Nick, tenderly.

“I can take it,” Nick quipped against Cody's lips, and the other chuckled. He felt giddy when he straightened up again, unable to keep himself from beaming.

Nick blinked: “I hope I'm not dreaming this.” He looked so charmingly befuddled that Cody's heart clenched again, with want this time.

Gently, he ran his fingers through his partner's hair: “I love you so damn much, Nicky,” he murmured.

At that, the corners of Nick's mouth quirked up: “Love you too, Baby.”

 

A week later, Cody and Murray took Nick home. Cody and Nick had had it out about the Mimi in the meantime, because Nick kept inquiring about her as soon as he felt better. They only let the matter rest for the time being when Murray announced that Bax had had Denise bring the Mimi back on the day before Nick was released; Baxter Aviation hadn't only retrieved her but had repaired the damage, checked her over thoroughly and taken care of whatever else needed done.

“She's as good as new,” he said proudly, as if he himself had done it. “Practically a Baxter Craft from the inside.”

“But still pink and ugly from the outside?” Cody asked drily, resulting in Nick throwing his cup of water at him.

 

When they drove by the helipad on the the day of Nick's release, he stared at the Mimi so longingly that Cody, if grumblingly so, turned off the road and stopped next to her.

Nick manoeuvered himself out of the car and walked over to his chopper with measured movements; there was no evidence of the recent damage, she looked the same as always. He was going to have to call Bax and thank him; probably wise to write down what he was going to say first because he might only be tearing up and stutter if he didn't, which wasn't going to sufficiently express his gratitude.

“We're some lucky bastards, Baby,” he said softly, running his hand down her flank.

 

By the time they had arrived on the Riptide, Nick was flagging considerably. They sat down in the salon with some coffee and apple pie Murray had made, which was delicious.

“All this time,” Cody said, “and I had no idea that you're such a good baker.”

Murray shrugged: “Baking is very much like chemistry,” he said. “You just need the ingredients and an instructions manual.”

Cody sighed contentedly: “Call it what you will- this cake is boss and bodacious.”

Murray laughed his high-pitched laughter: “Thank you,” he then gasped, wiping his eyes and his glasses with the hem of his shirt.

Nick leaned back, mindful of his still tender rib: “He's right, Boz,” he said. “And this is the best coffee I've ever had.”

Cody grinned: “The world's such a better place after a prolonged spell of hospital food, isn't it?”

Nick just rolled his eyes.

 

Once they were done, Nick opted for a nap, therefore Cody accompanied him into their stateroom, where he helped him into bed; moving about with the shoulder brace and the sling in addition to his injured rib still wasn't easy. Nick sighed with relief as he was finally lying down. Cody sat on the edge of the bunk, his leg against Nick's hip: “Can I get you anything else?” he asked.

Nick regarded him with a smile: “A bigger bed'd be nice,” he murmured, reaching for Cody with his good arm. Smiling as well, Cody leaned forward, propping himself up with his right elbow; careful not to jostle the mattress, he kissed him, tenderly, hungrily; being in the privacy of their home added a whole new thrill to it.

They had come a long way since the last time he had sat here in this exact spot, and even though Cody wouldn't want a repeat of the recent events, he was glad about the outcome.

“Nicky,” he murmured, stroking Nick's cheek with the back of his fingers, feeling his happiness spreading through him like wildfire.

 

When Nick had fallen asleep, Cody returned to the salon where Murray was still sitting and reading an article about cryptography in one of his computer magazines. He looked up when Cody appeared, however: “Isn't it boss to have Nick home?” he asked, beaming.

Cody sat down next to him, smiling: “Nothing compares.”

 

 

The End

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. I'm not a Native Speaker and therefore apologize for any mistakes.


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